Sweet Dreams
by galliechan
Summary: How would the quest for destroying the One Ring be like, if Frodo wasn't what he seems? Eventual FrodoLegolas
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy is the property of its author, J.R.R. Tolkien. The Lord of the Rings Movies are the property of their authorised owners. This alternate version of the first book and movie of the trilogy, The Fellowship of the Ring, is created by the author. All original settings, characters, etc. remain the property of the author.

Author's Note: There will be elven phrases in the upcoming chapters and since I am not an expert on it, I will be using the list of elven phrases found in the internet, there may be mistakes so if you notice one, please inform me. The same warning is valid for the history of the Middle Earth.

Sweet Dreams

A Lord of the Rings fanfic  
by Galliechan  
© Copyright 2007

Prologue

The bell referring the end of council ringed. Master Elrond nodded to himself satisfactorily. The story of One Ring was discussed, its future determined and as the biggest accomplishment of this council, the ringbearer who will carry it to Mordor was chosen. Also a loyal companion to him represented himself – albeit unintentionally - as well. A beneficial council indeed.

He stood up, meaning council ended literally and they can go to dining room for much awaited and wanted lunch. Suddenly someone cleared his throat loudly near him and upon looking, he saw Bilbo looking at him shyly, not a characteristic behaviour for the hobbit.

"How can I help you, Bilbo?" He asked. Some of the people inclined to leave the council area turned back and was looking at the hobbit curiously.

"I wouldn't want to keep each person from lunch. Just a few of you. I have a favour to ask, for I am afraid I can never again find a group consisting this many kinds at once and" he said, looking at his nephew Frodo, he continued "his visit here may be my last time seeing him, by my age adding up or his dangerous duty he took upon himself."

"Bilbo! What – " began Frodo with a panicked voice but cut by his uncle raising his hand strictly.

"Now, I can only hope that results of my journeys after unheard and unknown spells were really worth it." Bilbo muttered while taking envelopes and little papers full of drawings and words on them.

Frodo looked at his uncle, his father figure with confusion then ever-so-slowly understanding dawned. All council members, elves, dwarves, man and others looked at him while his eyes widened considerably and his mouth moved silently, forming no words.

Master Elrond felt his eyebrows rose, he would have thought how ridiculous he must have looked with eyebrows lost beneath his tiara if he wasn't as shocked and lost to the hobbit's words as now. He looked around to confirm whether it was only him and noticed even Gandalf was scrutinizing the old hobbit with a raised eyebrow. All council members had returned to their seats, their empty stomachs forgotten in the face of curiosity for weird words and behaviours of the hobbits. More precisely, two of them. Samwise looked like he didn't understand a word of Bilbo and restraining himself hardly from checking whether these two are the hobbits he knew since he remembered himself.

A few moments later found them still bewildered to what was going on but nonetheless waiting silently for Bilbo to explain since he started to murmur more meaningful words. However as if to add more to their confusion, four of them now had sealed envelopes in their hands. Elrond read the only thing written on the yellowish paper, _Seal of Body,_ and idly wondered if Bilbo was enjoying this.

"Will you explain what is going on _dear_ Bilbo?" asked Gandalf, 'dear' emphasized to mean the not-so-hidden message of 'explain now or you'll turn into something definitely _not_ hobbit'. He was one of the four with a sealed envelope in hand and it was making him more anxious with each passing second. _Seal of Magic_ was written on it and he could feel the movements of energy, magical energy, in it. They was swirling, waving, spinning and mixing into each other and even though his eyes can not see them, from little sensations on his hands and the prickle of hair on his arms, he was undeniably certain that this envelope contains strong magic.

Actually the word 'magic' was enough to disturb him. The word was used to describe his and his four fellow Ishtar's not-found-in-nature actions. After Saruman's betrayal, contains of this envelope was making his mind run like Shadowfax on an errand with questions. What if it contains magic from Saruman, dangerous and probably harmful magic? What if it did something to Bilbo? What if someone was listening to the council via that letter? What if...Gandalf stopped himself. _I am only panicking,_ he thought,_ there was no way for Saruman, who despises hobbits, to send a letter to them unnoticed by me. Although,_ he added,_ hobbits proved their success at finding _things _without my notice,_ looking at the Ring. Only to relieve himself, he thought of other usages of word 'magic'. Elves had magic, but they didn't use the word for their actions. Their preferences were words like 'light', 'energy' and so on, not the exact word 'magic'. _But still_, he thought, _there was a group of them using it. _However he dismissed the thought quickly, _they are all gone away, and nothing left of them but the rings._ Yes, rings were another place the word is used yet this thought was disturbing him instead of relieving, against his first intention.

"Bilbo!" he tried again but the hobbit was now talking to his nephew, or trying to talk considering the fact that Frodo was still in the same position and his moving mouth didn't make any noise, and didn't hear him. Gandalf looked at the sealed letter again. Whatever this was, was about Frodo. An eyebrow rose, yes, he thought more than once occasion whether Frodo has some elven blood in him but it was because of his appearance – he was taller and fair faced than most of the hobbits – or his nature love not because he sensed some magic in him.

Suddenly he noticed that Aragorn was looking at him with a disturbed expression and with dread become aware that this impatient behaviour was so uncharacteristic for him. He gave a reassuring smile to the man and retuned back to his silence, all the while trying not to mutter audibly something that would not be suitable to be heard from a man like him. Couldn't the hobbit be a bit _quicker_? This 'magic' envelope was troubling him more and more.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry to make you wait Gandalf." At last, the hobbit acknowledged him. "Although only four of you that I gave sealed envelopes must be present, I would recommend others to stay as well for this will be a once in a lifetime experience – yes, even for elves – since I believe none of you saw breaking of a curse placed upon one's own self."

"Bilbo, you didn't – " began Frodo but again silenced by his uncle.

Bilbo put his hands to his nephew's shoulders and looked at him with a gentle yet sad expression.

"I know I have put you into great danger, my dear son, this old hobbit's treasured ring turned into something far more dangerous than I can imagine. You are, starting from today, destined to go the heart of the evil. I am sorry that you had to go to this journey to cover up my mistake." the hobbit said sorrowful and raised his hand to stop a mouthful of objection from Frodo who looked like found his voice finally. "I was never involved in magic more than befriending Gandalf so I can only hope all these" he made a movement with his hand as if to show envelopes "works."

"Bilbo" started Frodo, at last talking without his uncle silencing him "that was a story about me only told to make you understand me better, I never intended or expected you to search anything to break this so-called-curse. Still I can't put into words how grateful I am to you. It is not important for me whether it works or not, merely the fact that you took that story serious and tried to help me is what makes me happy." he smiled to the old hobbit and continued "As for the ring, if this journey was made to 'cover up a mistake' as you put it, that mistake would never be yours, in its place be somebody else's that again is a close person to me, don't you think?" he winked. By now Bilbo's lips started curling upwards, definitely a better expression than the one he wore earlier. "Yet, this journey's purpose is not something complex like coverage, mistakes and whose-mistake-is-it instead something totally simple like for the bigger good of everybody, destroy the dark lord." he stopped when he heard some chuckles from people around them that couldn't help but find the young hobbit's definition funny. Most of the silent ones had smiles upon their lips. They was all impressed by the hobbit's speech, none of them – even Gandalf, Elrond and Sam – expected Frodo to talk like this. _Giving good speeches is not a hobbit speciality_, noted Gandalf surprised. _And Frodo talking as if he is wiser than Bilbo is definitely not heard before._

Said hobbit looked around and first time noticed how crowded it was, _everyone from the council is here_, then smiled to himself "Your love for making shows Bilbo." he said shaking his head. "Let's not make them wait more with empty stomachs and, even more disturbing one, unsatisfied curiosity. Still before all, thank you Bilbo, even if this doesn't work, thank you for your efforts." he gave a big smile to his uncle and stood aside for him to explain what is going on.

"I know I made you all wait without explaining anything" the hobbit coughed "but I hope you'll all forgive me if I explain everything after the work with these envelopes finishes." He looked at the holders of sealed envelopes. Then from his bag he took out another envelope, this time not a sealed one. "As you noticed, five envelopes are all in hands of five different kinds." he continued and a murmur rose from the ones that didn't notice before. He had to cough to gain everyone's attention again. "There are different writings on each of these envelopes. For the curse to be broken, each of these writings should be read aloud, yet each holder should read it in a different language than the others used. Then the letters should be ripped into two." He waited a bit to think if he had forgotten anything. "That should be all." added and waited uncertainly as if he was not sure everyone understood his explanation.

"Okay, then what will happen?" asked Aragorn looking at the letter in his hand.

"Hopefully the curse will be broken and you'll all be shocked."

"What if we don't want to rip the letter?" asked Gandalf, still eying the letter in his hand suspiciously. "I definitely don't like the feeling this letter gives to me and I am pretty hesitant to rip it to let it spread around."

Bilbo turned to the wizard, obvious from his expression that he never gave a thought that someone wouldn't want to rip the letter. "Umm...the magic in it should have no effect if the curse is not broken." said uncertainly.

"Hah! And I should be the naive one to believe that!" the wizard snapped.

Upon seeing Bilbo's troubled expression, Gloin interfered grumpily "Then we should trust you to protect us from said magic." He was holding a sealed envelope in his hand as well and _Seal of Spirit_ was written on it. _What spirit and what seal?_, he thought again, annoyed. "Just do it if not because you like it but to fulfil a good friend's wish." That was why he did it. The old hobbit smiled thankfully to his friend.

"If you have a bunch of energy in your hand, think good of it for then it turns out to be good." said Frodo dreamy, looking directly to Gandalf while he was positioning himself to sit comfortably to the ground. _That is an old elven saying_, the wizard thought surprised, _one that the elves living on Middle Earth these days don't know the real meaning._ Not that there was a hidden meaning to the sentence, actually it was quite open for anyone to see but nobody could see it because the saying belonged to a group of elves that none remained on Middle Earth. He glanced to the hobbit, now sitting on the ground, still wondering how the young hobbit heard the saying, and sighed.

"Whatever this curse is, hopefully it will be broken so we will get an explanation." the Ishtar said glaring to the old hobbit. _The easiest kind to understand in Middle Earth, _he thought again, _yet one can't help but be surprised now and then, these hobbits._

Smiling to the wizard's response, Bilbo nodded to himself. Everything should be ready. But he was nervous. Hopefully, the result of all his journeys, searches and chases after spells will be found in a few moments. He thought of what Frodo said a moment ago; _think good then it turns out to be good. It will be ok, it will be good, _he started repeating inaudibly, _it will be ok, the curse will be broken..._

Everybody waited for the hobbit to be ready despite of their increasing anticipation. Everybody was curious and mystified to what is going on. Still they understood that this was a special moment for the two hobbits so none of them said a word to quicken the process, only hoping after that letters are ripped, one of the hobbits will explain.

Bilbo opened his eyes, now got over most of his nervousness – although not the excitement – and began the process he waited since his nephew told him his story.

"The letters should be ripped with an order. First of is Dunadan's one." he turned to Aragorn and added "since you're the first, you can say its name in whatever language you want."

Aragorn looked at the letter in his hand. _Seal of Life._ He looked at the holders of the letters; Gloin would surely say in his own language, Gandalf can find some language surely since the man was sure the Ishtar knew pretty much, for the hobbit he would leave the common language. That left him and Master Elrond, leaving Quenya to the wise elf, he chose Sindarin to say the name.

Saying the name, the man ripped the sealed envelope into two. He was surprised, however, when two pieces of the letter disappeared suddenly in his hand.

"This is how it should be?" he asked slightly alarmed, looking at Bilbo.

"Yeah, the letters should disappear when ripped into two." answered the hobbit. "Next, Master Elrond, please."

This time the elf ripped his letter into two, saying its name in Quenya, as guessed by Aragorn. Then the process continued by Gloin the dwarf and Gandalf the Ishtar. All sealed letters disappeared when ripped as Bilbo said they should be, and lastly he sealed the letter that was in front of him with a grin he can not keep from his face from the moment first letter was ripped.

"Sealing of the Curse" he said in common language. "Now the curse is sealed." He walked to the young hobbit sitting on ground and gave the sealed letter to him, smiling.

Frodo took the letter and stood up albeit a bit shakily and with a fast movement cut his middle finger with his nail enough to make it bleed.

"Let the curse started by blood, end with blood." After a drop of blood touch the letter, it began to dissolve into nothingness slowly. Yet nobody was looking at the letter by now for the young hobbit's body began to dissolve as well. It was like his skin was melting, similar to a burning candle, and alarmed they noticed that the melted pieces was moving in their accord and was forming a new body. In a few seconds, hobbit's body was no more than moving colourful shapes. Sam, who was closest to him, took back a few steps in shock attempting not to touch the shapes.

The view was disgusting yet fascinating and no one could take their eyes from it, frozen in their places. Astounded, everyone watched as the shapes were forming a new body, nevertheless the body was not of a hobbit's. It was taller, from what they could tell, and slender.

_This is the seen part_, Gandalf realised. He could feel magical energy forming as well, focusing on the figure in front of them and thickening, growing stronger than it was in the sealed envelope. _Seal of Body and Magic these are,_ he noted. Whatever the curse was, it sealed Frodo's – or what really Frodo is – body, magic, spirit and life. Now that they are released, they are returning back to what they were. What they supposed to be. _A curse put upon yourself with blood,_ Gandalf mused, _and the pieces were not lost in time, they are now returning back._ That was indeed strong magic, albeit different from an Ishtar's.

Gandalf thought absent-mindedly of what happened in this last hour and suddenly he connected the pieces of information; the magic, Frodo's uncharacteristic behaviour after he noticed Bilbo's intention and the old saying the hobbit used. The Ishtar came to a conclusion, one that how hard he found to believe, less he doubted its truth. He looked to his right, for a moment withdrawing his eyes from the figure in front to him, and saw that Elrond, Elestar and Glorfindel was looking troubled as well, probably came to the same conclusion. He didn't know what it will bring, what changes it will do to the history but someone was coming with a speciality that was long forgotten on Middle Earth since the Second Age. An Elven Magician has returned to Middle Earth at the end of the Third Age.


	2. Chapter 1

A few hours after the council ended – along with all its discussions, decisions and pretty surprising end – with the remaining council members have eaten their lunch, everyone retuned to their respective jobs. The job of hobbits' today was, meeting in a room and listening to the news of what happened in the council.

Merry and Pippin was currently bombarding Bilbo, Sam and Gandalf – who accidentally happened to be there – with questions about the council and especially about Frodo.

"So where is he now?" demanded Pippin.

"In his room, sleeping, as we said before." said Sam wearily, the two hobbits were tiring them with their seemingly-endless questions and they didn't even listen when the said questions were answered.

"Are you sure he is ok? Who is staying with him?" started Merry, "If no one, I can stay with him. What if something happens when he is sleeping?"

"Yeah, good idea. I can stay with him too." added Pippin quickly, nodding his head at the same time.

"Definitely, someone has to be with him." Merry stood up and swiftly moved towards the door.

"I'm coming also, there has to be someone who knows what to do in case something happens to him." Pippin walked after Merry.

At this point, neither Bilbo nor Sam attempted to stop the two. Bilbo was already lying in his bed, stopped answering the questions a while ago. At first, he was pleased to answer them. He was a natural story-teller besides was in high spirits because _yeah, the curse __is__ broken_, and more than happy to tell his story again to the excited hobbits. Yet he noticed that they weren't listening to him, the two heard from here-and-there what had happened to their used-to-be-hobbit friend and now all they wanted was to see him. Of course they didn't know the true and detailed story he told in the council, after all things with the letters ended and his nephew stood before him in his true self. _Actually_, Bilbo thought, _that's not the right word._ Frodo didn't stand before his uncle because after the transformation was done, he dropped dead to the floor, nearly causing the old hobbit a heart attack. Thankfully, Master Elrond rushed to his side and quickly confirmed that he was just unconscious and Gandalf agreed that yes, after using such a great amount of magic at once, it is natural for him to lose his consciousness. Although it took a while to calm the panicked hobbit down – actually _hobbits_ since Sam was already pretty panicked – after everything calmed down and Frodo was safe and sound in his room, Bilbo told his story to the overly-curious ears of the waiting crowd. It was the two hothead hobbits' loss if they didn't want to listen to the great tale.

Sam, on the other hand, understood Merry and Pippin since he wanted to see his young master as well. Desperately. However he trusted the elves that said his master was secure and just sleeping because he used so much energy. Unlike the other two hobbits, he also didn't suggest he knew anything about healing so he was waiting patiently and somewhat worriedly for his master to wake.

The gardener hobbit sat to the edge of the bed Bilbo was currently laying. After the old hobbit stopped answering the flood of questions, he began to answer as well as he can but the two hobbits didn't listen to him as well. He had already said – three times, if he can remember correctly – that they were not allowed to enter Frodo's bedroom and there was no need for someone to look after him since Master Elrond was staying with him. This was the forth time and Sam wasn't making an effort to stop them. _Let the elf guards in front of __Frodo's__ door stop the__m,_ thought the hobbit, _no,__ his name is__ not Frodo anymore,_ added quickly. Sam did not understand the entire story Master Bilbo told but he believed what his eyes saw. Adding the little pieces he got from the tale, he knew what he needed to know, anything more would confuse him. He absentmindedly wished the loud hobbits would leave so he could think more about what happened today.

Then again, even though two tired hobbits didn't stop the pair from running through the door, a certain Ishtar, who was beginning to wonder what the hell was he thinking when he stepped into this room, stopped them. Harshly grabbing from their collars, mind you, for he was losing his patience too.

"Gandalf!" "Let us go!" two shouts rose simultaneously yet the wizard, with strength one could not believe to be coming from an old man like him, pulled the hobbits inside the room. Then turning around to look at them, the said old man gave them a hard glare that would have made man, far stronger than the two hobbits stop and question himself.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, Pelegrin Took" said hobbits looked at each other nervously. If the wizard would use their full names, that meant trouble; if full name plus the surname, that meant you're doomed. "You two have been doing nothing but panicking yourselves and tiring these two hobbits" he showed Bilbo and Sam "for the last hour. This is the last time I'm saying it: Nobody is allowed to go to the room of Frodo until he wakes up," not giving the two hobbits time to say a word, he added "and Master Elrond is staying with him until then. Now, I would suggest you to sit silently or go outside for we want to think of what happened today."

At last, Merry and Pippin looked like they had heard and understood what was being said and sat on to the other bed in the room silently. Bilbo and Sam gave thankful looks to the wizard and everyone returned to their thoughts in peace.

Pippin looked angrily to the wizard. He _now_ understood that even if he could get out of this room, he wouldn't be able to enter Frodo's room He also knew that he shouldn't be angry at Gandalf, actually the wizard looked worried as well, but he needed to somehow spend his energy and being angry did the job. He was also angry at Sam for he joined the council discreetly and didn't call them. If he and Merry would be at the council as well, they would have known what happened to Frodo at first hand. He was so panicked when they said Frodo had fainted and was now in his room that he didn't listen to whatever else was being said. Yeah, there was also a rumour around about something weird like 'one of the hobbits took a magical transformation', but _a rumour __is just a__ rumour,_ he had thought. All he wanted was to see his friend.

Merry was in a similar position as Pippin. Yes, he was still worried but he calmed down a bit now that he knew Master Elrond was with his friend. Different than Pippin, however, he didn't spend his energy getting angry to people. After his panicked mind quieted down a bit, he thought what he heard about the council. Although Council of Elrond wasn't a common event, Merry wasn't sure it should attract this much attention. Was they curious about the Ring, that he was sure was the subject of the meeting? Okay, the One Ring appearing was a really important topic but something was _off_ there, he noticed. He looked around the room, Gandalf, he understood, however why was Bilbo and Sam thinking that hardly about the Ring? He had heard that Sam had volunteered to go to Mordor with Frodo but it wasn't like the hobbit to think that hard, it was usually Frodo's job. And about Bilbo, he understood that he was worried for his nephew but it required that much thinking?

Suddenly, Merry remembered something he had dismissed completely. When he and Pippin had gone to the council area to know why they didn't come to lunch, an elf came to them and asked if they knew about the rumour that a hobbit from the council took a magical transformation. They had just looked at him weirdly and shook their heads. Both of them was too worried and panicked for their own good that they didn't have time for stupid rumours. 'All rumours have something true in them, albeit small' he remembered his father's words. If indeed something magical happened to Frodo, that would explain most of the things.

"What did actually happen to Frodo?" he asked, not minding the glare the wizard sent to him for disturbing the quiet again. Next to him, Pippin lifted his head curiously.

"You know, we tried to explain to you but you didn't listen" said Sam

"This time we'll listen." said Pippin eagerly, happy to find something else to do than getting angry.

"Yes, very carefully" added Merry quickly.

"Well" started Sam, "from what I understood – "

"No, no. Let me tell the entire story to these curious hobbits." cut Bilbo, ready for story-telling. Sam silenced respectfully, having no problem with listening it again. Gandalf, on the other hand, looked disturbed that the hardly obtained silence was gone again but after a moment's thought, decided to stay. In private, the old hobbit would likely to give more detail.

"For you to understand the story better," started the hobbit in a serious voice, "firstly, you should know that Frodo was not a hobbit," he dropped the bomb "well, at least not in spirit." added quickly then he stopped to see the expressions of the two hobbits.

The three occupants of the room, who had been in the council, watched while slowly the old hobbit's sentence was heard by the two hobbits. Bit by bit, their brains processed the information and their expressions turned into one of ultimate confusion. They blinked again and mentally repeated the sentence, _did Bilbo _really_ said what they __heard_ after approving that _yes, he did said what they heard_, they both looked to the hobbit now laughing at them, with matching expressions of puzzlement and shock.

"Wha?!" an exclamation rose from two bewildered hobbits and for a moment surpassed the sounds of laughter from two hobbits and chuckle from the wizard.

"To say more clearly," Bilbo started after his laugher calmed down a bit, "Frodo, although lived in a hobbit's body, had an elven spirit."

This explanation did have no effect of understanding on the two hobbits, which was actually what Bilbo's desired.

"Frodo's spirit," Bilbo began in his serious story-telling voice, "was actually a cursed spirit of an elf. A curse that disabled him – I mean the spirit – to leave the Earth so he would continuously reborn in different bodies."

"Who put that curse on him?" asked Merry, glad that the old hobbit started explaining what he meant.

"Actually, it was Frodo. He put the curse on himself."

"So Frodo was living in different bodies all this time because he wanted it?" asked Pippin who found this whole thing hard to comprehend.

"Not because he wanted to, he had to!" snapped the hobbit, with a softer tone continued "Let me start from the beginning. We know him as Frodo but his real name, elven name is Erandil. Erandil son of Celebrimbor. He had borned in the Second Age and lived in Eregion, an Elvish realm." Then stopped, "Do you know the role of Celebrimbor in history?" he asked.

"Whose role?"

"Celebrimbor. He was the maker of Rings of Power" stated Gandalf from his place near the door. "He had leaded the smiths of Eregion to make the nineteen rings, as I hope you know the story of." both hobbits nodded, "They were guided by Sauron, hiding himself by another name and learning the craft from the elves, he forged himself the One Ring. However Celebrimbor created three rings without the Dark Lord's knowledge. You know these rings, the three hidden rings of the elves which are not corrupted by dark powers. With the One Ring, Sauron captured all other rings but his greatest desire was to get these three rings, which were the strongest ones, to himself."

"Then what about his son?"

"Unlike his father," started Bilbo, "Erandil was not a smith. He preferred to take the education of a profession that was slowly disappearing. It had altogether gone this day. He became an Elven Magician."

"I thought all elves can do magic," said Merry, "what difference did a magician have?"

"Many differences." the wizard cut the hobbit's story again, "First of all, they are far more powerful. A good educated and powerful one had great influence on the nature. Such that some could move rocks with only thoughts or walk untouched in the nest of wild animals. I had seen with my eyes when Wood-Elf Magicians made a tree grow twice its size in merely two hours." He shook his head at the memory. "But they have to pass a very hard training to become one and getting powerful is a slow and difficult process. Of course some talent is needed as well. That was why their numbers was decreasing, they got new students rarely and after some time the profession was abandoned. At the end of Second Age, none left on Middle Earth."

"What difference it had with your magic Gandalf?" asked Pippin

"All I know is that they don't have spells and commands like we, Ishtar, do but I think you should ask this to him personally."

"You had said something about talent. So every elf can't be a magician?"

"You understood quite well Merry," answered the wizard smiling, "not all of them can become magicians. They had to have talent, think of this as some kind of magic in your blood. Erandil definitely had that talent in him, the house he comes from his father side is a famous one. Actually one of the most powerful elves – if not the most powerful one – of the whole history is from that house. But I don't know about his mother, still I can guess she was somehow involved in magic as well." He turned to Bilbo.

"As always, good guess Gandalf." answered the hobbit, "His mother was the daughter of the most powerful magician of the city. Actually Celebrimbor never wanted his son to be a smith like him but a magician like his mother and grandfather. He had been ecstatic when he made his choice and began his training under his grandfather. And, I know you're wondering about this Gandalf, yes, he was the one to help his father while forging the three rings." At this the Ishtar looked directly into the eyes of the old hobbit and gave a gentle smile, yes, he was wondering about that.

"Helloo" called Pippin, "we can't follow you. If he wasn't a smith, how could he help forging rings?"

"Rings of Power." corrected the wizard, "When the rings are forged, a magician should, how can I say it, awaken their power. Then they can be magical rings, or else they would be ordinary rings."

"Yes," agreed Bilbo, "All other rings except these three were awakened by the Dark Lord so they carried his ill intentions. Although he could control the three as well, he wanted them because of the different power they carried." Seeing that this time no one will interrupt him, he continued, "Once he made the One Ring for himself, the Dark Lord began chasing the other rings. For this reason he attacked Eregion and destroyed the realm. He captured Celebrimbor and learned the places of other rings from him, most probably under torture" at this, the hobbits shuddered, "but he died before saying the whereabouts of three elven rings. However this wasn't the knowledge he wanted because he could feel the users of other rings already. He wanted to learn about the Three because their users felt the dark presence and didn't put on the rings again." He took a deep breath and continued, "So the Dark Lord turned to the only other person knowing the whereabouts of the rings, the creator's son. After the destruction of his home, Erandil had survived and was running to a safe place when Sauron captured him. As he did to his father, the Dark Lord tortured him to reveal what he knew about the Rings of the Elves. Not just the whereabouts, their powers as well because he knew that his son was the helper of Celebrimbor when he forged the rings." Bilbo took a shuddered breath. He didn't like the idea of talking about torture to his nephew. He looked around, all the hobbits was white as sheet and the wizard was looking troubled. While listening to the story, it was pretty easy to imagine Frodo as Erandil – although they were not looking alike – and Dark Lord torturing him wasn't an idea they found pleasing. No, definitely not pleasing. More like the opposite.

"So he made a decision," started Bilbo again, eager to pass this part. "knowing if this _treatment_ continues, he would say something about the three rings, he chose to destroy the only source of knowledge, himself. He believed these rings will have significant roles against the Dark Lord and he was right."

"Destroying himself as in _dying_?" asked Pippin, afraid of the answer.

"Yes, this was his first intention but it didn't worked." Three hobbits released deep breaths simultaneously, forgetting for a second that the said elf was sleeping a few rooms next to them, definitely alive. "There wasn't a thing around him, of course, and sacrificing one's own self with elven magic was impossible. Also he couldn't ask the walls around him to help him, everything until the very last stone, even the air was filled with dark magic. Instead of giving into despair – it was a way of dying as well – he decided that as long as Sauron wouldn't find him, he can live. Yet for that, he shouldn't be Erandil the elf."

Bilbo was telling the story as if he actually lived through these and gave this decision his own, obviously the effect of hearing the story from the said elf himself. "He knew that performing elven magic with any dark power nearby was so hard, if the dark power is strong, impossible. He had to get as far as from the Dark Lord for his magic to work properly and in Mordor, in the dungeons of the Dark Lord, that idea was laughable itself. Yet he took the risk and performed the magic when he was left alone in his cell. The magic – I prefer to call the curse – enabled him to leave his body but not letting him to go to the Halls of Mandos until he actually died in his real body. The problem was – "

"Halls of Mandos? What is it?" interrupted Pippin looking at Bilbo and Gandalf for an explanation.

"It is the place elves' spirits go when they die." explained the Ishtar, "their spirits rest and cleansed there, then sent back in bodies same as their old ones. Yet these reborned elves remain in the Undying Lands – don't ask where it is. Only exception is Lord Glorfindel, I'm sure you'd remember him."

"The one that came when Frodo was injured from the Dark Knife?"

"Didn't know he had reborned and so on."

Bilbo coughed to gain the attention again, "As I was saying, the curse made his spirit left his body but didn't let him go to Halls of Mandos. The spirit remained in the Middle Earth, destined to born in different bodies until The End. But – "

"Why couldn't he go to Halls of Mandos?"

"As I said, " began the old hobbit, a bit irritated that his story was continuously stopped. "this was the curse."

"But when his spirit left, his body died, right? Then he should have gone to the Halls."

"No, no." The hobbit shook his head, "Yes, his body died but not an actually dying." After seeing the confused looks, he struggled to explain better. "You know how elves can die, right?" Both hobbits nodded. "Erandil, kind of...made his body disappear with the curse, not actually killed it. As I said, with elven magic, sacrificing himself is impossible and separation of the spirit from the body is what dying is. He cannot do that to himself. So he made his body dissolve so his spirit freed himself. But the body, in reality, wasn't dead so he couldn't go the Halls of Mandos."

"What do you mean by dissolve?" asked Gandalf, these details weren't given when the hobbit told the tale before.

"His body dissolved as in sugar in water?"

"Well," the hobbit began uncertainly, "I couldn't understand this part when he told me, I don't get how magic works, but I guess it was something like what happened when he got his body back. He had said something about spending his energy with magic but I think you should ask him Gandalf. And about the sugar-thing" he turned to Pippin, "never asked it that way but if he said dissolve, maybe it has some resemblance."

The old hobbit took a deep breath before resuming to his tale. At the same time Gandalf was noting that he should ask the details about this magic to the elf to learn the true story. He was still puzzled on how he did that miracle. Also, inwardly, he agreed that staying here was beneficial; Bilbo surely was giving more detail.

"The problem was," the hobbit started again, happy to have his small but curious audience, "with his body gone, he reborned in other bodies. But these bodies are of mortal ones. As I said before, he can't go to Halls of Mandos unless he died in his real body; however his real body is gone. The spirit can't roam freely, it had to born in a body."

"So he borned in mortal elf bodies?"

"No, no. He borned in different mortal kinds bodies, like dwarves, man, hobbits and so on. He could never born in an elf's body because elves' spirits are special, only for one body. And there is no such thing as a mortal elf body."

"Now, if I understood correctly," started Merry, "his spirit freed himself and his body was dissolved, not died. Because of that he couldn't go to Halls of Mandos so he couldn't reborned in his own self." Bilbo nodded, "But his spirit had to live in bodies and since his immortal, elf body is gone, he had to reborn in mortal kinds' bodies. An elven spirit can't live other elven bodies than his own body. And since he didn't die in his real body, when the mortal body died, he reborned again?"

"Exactly." said Bilbo happily, glad that his story was understood well.

"For how long this circle played itself?"

"You met him in a hobbit's body, right? It happened until the curse was lifted a few hours ago."

"So," asked Sam, who was silent until now, surprised, "he lived as dwarf, man, hobbit all this time? Poor Master Frodo," he added solemnly, "he lived many, many years as different persons, even different kinds. It is so hard."

"More like many, many centuries Sam" said Gandalf, "according to the time period he lived in, he must have lived through many mortal lives. That is to say that he lived as dwarf, man, hobbit – not the other kinds, I guess, for an elven spirit can't live in others' bodies – more than once." He smiled to the shocked faces of three hobbits. "Such a collection of memory and experiences have never seen before." He muttered to himself, believing he will earn a good talking-companion.

"He lived as a hobbit before?" asked Pippin eagerly, "Maybe he was someone we had heard of."

"Before being Frodo, he reborned as a hobbit a few centuries ago," said Bilbo sombrely, shaking his head, "I had asked. Such a shame, if you ask me." The other three hobbits joined him, shaking their heads. Gandalf looked to the scene in front of him and shook his head, but for a different reason. _These hobbits and their antics_, he thought, _may they never see the dark side of the life._

"This is not a happy story and Erandil, guessing from his reaction today, never thought that you'd have tried to find a solution to his curse." All hobbits looked to the wizard, "so why did he tell you his story? I would imagine him to keep it a secret since his first intention was to hide his true self."

Bilbo chuckled at that. "Yes, that had been his first time telling his story – it is hard to imagine how he kept himself silent in all his lives. My guess is that he didn't believed a hobbit like me would cause him this much trouble." The hobbit smiled, "but actually I asked him, firstly, if he used to be something other than a hobbit before."

The other four in the room stopped at that. "You really asked that?" asked Pippin in a non-believing tone. "I never saw something non-hobbit in him." muttered Sam. "Yes, he was a different one, but a hobbit nonetheless."

"Yes, because he was different. You guys might not see it but I had saw him many times doing things that I never taught him and sure that his parents neither as well." He looked proud of himself for seeing things that nobody else noticed. "I was the one teaching him Elvish, but more than once I saw him talking to plants, trees or stones in a language I didn't understand. I didn't know it but I could tell by its musical tone that it was a kind of Elvish. There was also something graceful in all his behaviours. It took me such a long time to figure out what is it. As you can guess, in a hobbit's body it is hard to notice the light step of the elves."

Gandalf thought about it, yes, Frodo was an elegant hobbit, something that is not common among hobbits. All other hobbits were thinking about their friend's behaviours and taken aback that they didn't noticed before.

"Yet the most remarkable feature was his eyes." The old hobbit smiled as if he was seeing the said eyes. "They reminded me of yours, Gandalf, shining wisely and deeply. They held more memories than a hobbit can collect in all his life. They were shining with an inner light so bright that I sometimes thought that if his skin would allow it, his whole body would have shined with that light." He lifted his head and looked at his audience, "His eyes were what convinced me that my nephew was not what he seems."

For a moment, everybody in the room thought of Frodo's eyes. Trying to fit Bilbo's description to them.

"I wonder what his real eye-colour is." murmured the old hobbit.

"You said yourself that you didn't understand magic," Merry's voice pulled everyone from their reverie, "then how did you know what to do to lift the curse?"

"I travelled and searched for it, silly hobbit." answered Bilbo, "After he told me his tale, I decided to find a way to lift the curse, especially when he didn't even attempt to. His story was a touching one and in the end, he had thanked for everything _as his uncle_ I did for him. After he finished telling the story and answering my questions, he acted as if the conversation never happened. But you know we Bagginses, once we put our minds on something, nothing can discourage us from reaching it." He winked while everyone nodded their heads knowingly.

"But I thought this kind of a magic was never performed before," said Pippin, "then how did you find to lift a curse that has never been heard before? Also you had said elven magicians are no longer on Middle Earth, how did you found someone to help you?"

"Definitely good questions," agreed Gandalf to the hobbit, a rare moment in itself, "since you didn't mention this curse to me also."

"Well...firstly, I didn't ask to you, Gandalf, because elven magic was different from your magic – I knew it – and" the old hobbit looked a bit ashamed at this point, "I wanted to do it myself. I knew you'd help if I asked but I thought this was my duty for Frodo. Kind of a thank you for giving me a good reason to live again."

"I understand, my dear hobbit." said Gandalf, smiling with sympathy.

"As for the other question, yes, this curse was never heard before and definitely there were no elven magicians to help me. Even if I found their documents, I couldn't understand their language. But they had left little spells to their neighbours, the dwarves of Moria, to help them in their daily life. These spells was written on small papers for dwarves to use them. Easy to use and one didn't have to know anything about magic to use them. After Moria was deserted, these spells were scattered over many places by traveller dwarves.

In one of my journeys, I met a one who was carrying quite a few of these spells. I bought them all though he sold them rather costly. The dwarf had written their usages on all of them so I understood them easily. The only thing that was written on them was what their master wanted them to do. For example, there was one that wrote 'I want whatever I put this paper on to be clean'. It was really working; everything I put the spell on would get cleaned." The hobbit laughed merrily at the memory, while the other hobbits were grinning to the idea. Only the wizard didn't found this odd for he can count at least four spells at the moment to do the same job and he had heard or the elven spell papers.

"My greatest luck," continued Bilbo "was when I found another dwarf with empty spell papers. He gave them to me – he said he didn't need them. I had found my chance, by writing the correct things on these papers, I could lift the curse. Yet the problem was, I didn't know how." The hobbit smirked ruefully, "It wasn't until I came to Rivendell and asked Master Elrond that I began to form an idea. His books in his library were great and he sometimes translated a few texts to me. I was glad that he never questioned me and just believed it was my curiosity. Though while I was preparing these, I was thinking of going back to the Shire for Frodo, never expected him to come here. I was lucky that my preparations were ready when he came. I guess you know the rest, right?"

"Noo!" shouted Merry and Pippin, wanting to hear about the letters and the transformation as well.

"There is not much to tell about the letters. As you can imagine, they was full of little spell papers. Indicating the different kinds his spirit lived in, I prepared them so that each letter should be ripped by a person from different race, talking in different languages. The letters dissolved, that was my way of understanding that all the spells in it worked. But I didn't know how the transformation will be, it was unexpected for me as well." stopped Bilbo, his story was finished. This was the whole story.

Bilbo looked around the room and spotting a bottle of water, moved towards it while other hobbits sat in silence, digesting the story. The Ishtar, content for filling some of the empty spaces in the tale, sat thinking and getting ever-so-slowly more impatient to meet and talk to the elf.

"Wow," breathed Merry, "I would never imagine my cousin to have such a past."

"Yeah," agreed Pippin, "I can't wait to see him."

"And talk to him," added Sam, "he must have great stories to tell."

"You're correct, Sam" said Gandalf, "he indeed must have wonderful stories." Even he had joined the excited hobbits, the idea of conversing with a person who has memories of being dwarf, man and hobbit – several times each – in different eras was irresistible to him. Erandil himself knew many different cultures, traditions and probably several different professions that may never mix into each other under normal conditions. Maybe never even met each other. The idea itself was enough to make him smile.

"There is only one problem with your wish," said Bilbo sadly, "Erandil is mute."

The silence that fell over the room was absolute.


	3. Chapter 2

Gandalf walked through the halls of the House of Elrond, humming to himself. After a good night's sleep, he got rid of his conflicting thoughts and emotions over yesterday's events. _A new day,_ he mused, _to think about the destiny of Middle Earth, lying in the hands of an elf not heard in history._ The last part was what troubled him, how can he not know about a son of Celebrimbor, never even heard about him. How could he, who befriended elven magicians before they left, not know about one that plays such an important role? _And actually, _a voice in his mind scolded to him, _who did you assume gave the power to the Three Rings?_ Three rings that nobody but Celebrimbor knew their existence until One Ring was forged. The Ishtar noticed, embarrassed, that he never thought about it. Eregion had many strong magicians but he never, ever thought about which of them might awaken the power of the Three. And why never in history had he heard about this magician, an expert in stones and an impressive influencer on the nature?

The wizard stopped in front of the room he wanted to enter. The door of the room was a white one, delicately worked on by elves, their graceful designs shining under the rising sun's yellow rays. He looked around, the cool breeze hitting his face and making slight rustling sounds from nearby trees. Definitely, the House of Elrond looked beautiful in dawn. Turning back, he opened the door with a slight smile on his face.

The heavy smell was the first thing he noticed, an immediate change after the fresh air outside. Then the lack of light. For a moment he just stood there, blinking to adjust his eyes. When, lastly, he could see inside the room with no trouble, the scene in front of him made him raise one eyebrow. Three elves were looking to him with similar expressions, all carrying several books and parchments in their arms, coming from different directions of the great room. The big table at the centre of the room was filled with numerous books, papers and parchments, apparently carried by the three elves.

"I knew that the Library of Imladris was a well-known place but didn't expect it to find it with people in such an early hour." The wizard said while walking towards the table and looking to the titles of the books. "I believe," he continued, "our reasons for this early research are the same." He looked to the tired faces of the elves, now standing near him after empting their armful of books and parchments to the table. "Do you need the help of a well-rested body and curious mind of a wizard?" he asked smiling.

"That would be definitely helpful." replied Erestor, sitting down to a nearby chair and taking a deep breath.

"Never saw this table so full of books," added Glorfindel leaning to a bookshelf, "yet not a clue."

"And I had believed I knew the history of Eregion, word by word." said Elrond from his place on one of the chairs around the table.

"So not a word about the son of Celebrimbor?" asked Gandalf.

"Not even mentioned." groaned the blond elf. He was used to weapons and trainings instead of reading and doing researches for hours.

"His wife?"

"She was mentioned in a few of them. He was married to the daughter of a magician. One of the best in the realm."

"Nevertheless, there is not a word about a son of them. Actually any child of them."

"So," Gandalf murmured, "not enough evidence to believe his story."

"Not enough? More like not _any_!_"_

There was a silence for a moment while all of them thought about the story of Erandil. After hearing the story from Bilbo, the three elves and the Ishtar in the room began to think about the gaps in the story. None of them asked the hobbit more questions believing it may raise a similar doubt from the other listeners as well – if not already. All of them considered asking the questions to the elf when he woke up. However, then they noticed – needless to say, this wasn't expected – that even if they ask, they can get no answers from the elf. Of course there was still the possibility to ask the elf to write but this would arouse suspicion from the said elf, something they didn't want. So they began to search the books. Yet, as they searched though the books and family trees of Noldor, their belief to his story lessened even more. He might have easily lied to the hobbit since the old Bilbo was only saying what he heard from the elf. Nevertheless, the curse was real, for the hobbit _really_ turned into an elf.

"I listened to the story again from Bilbo." Gandalf broke the silence, "he gave more detail in private." All elves raised their heads to look at him, expecting him to continue, "He filled some of the gaps of the story. Like why he was captured by Sauron."

"Because he was the son of the creator of the Rings." said Erestor, raising his eyebrows, "What did you find missing in this explanation?"

"I wondered it as well," said Elrond, "It was known that Celebrimbor forged the rings alone. Sauron captured him only to learn the whereabouts of them. If the Dark Lord didn't believe Erandil knew about the Three, he wouldn't capture him."

"Couldn't it be guessed that, maybe he knew about them since he is the creator's son?" asked Glorfindel, confused a bit.

"Not his wife, his advisor or fellow smiths but the son we couldn't find in the books. This is interesting" Elrond stopped slightly "and makes me doubt his captivity as well, since I found it hard to believe such a strong elven magic can be accomplished in Dark Lord's place as well."

"You no longer need to think about it, Master Elrond." said Gandalf nodding to himself; he had similar doubts also, before he listened to Bilbo again. "Did you ever think who actually awakened the power of the Three and why we never heard about this magician before?" he started to tell what he learned from the old hobbit yesterday afternoon.

----------

Gimli walked in one of the several gardens of Rivendell, enjoying the view and glad to find a moment alone. Although his kind was never one for gardens and trees, he knew to appreciate good scenery and hard work. These gardens had both. He could easily see the hard work put into these plants and trees even with eyes of someone who could never tell the difference between two kinds of trees. He was thinking along the line of finding a good spot to sit when he suddenly spotted an elf sitting in a bench under a mighty tree.

He groaned silently behind his beard. This place was full of elves and he couldn't find a spot without seeing any of them nearby! _Even at such a reserved corner like this!_ The dwarf, for a second, believed that he finally found a place to listen to his own head, not their chattering in an unknown language. He was about to turn back to find another place in this beautiful garden or maybe another garden altogether, when he noticed the elf didn't make any movement to acknowledge his presence. Actually he – or she for the dwarf wasn't sure seeing as they all had long hair – didn't even stir at all. The dwarf wondered if the elf is asleep – it was still an early hour in the morning – because if he learned anything about elves in his time in Rivendell, it was that they had sensitive senses. The elf, whoever it is, should have heard his footsteps already.

After he convinced himself that the elf won't make any noise, he sat to a bench not so far from the one the elf was currently sitting. After a few more moments of admiring the gracefulness of the garden, he began to observe the elf. The dwarf, normally, wasn't one to stare at people – especially elves – but he found that he could do it easily if the other one was sleeping. And the elf somehow aroused his interest; he couldn't remember seeing him before with his father.

The elf was currently sitting in such an angle that the dwarf could see him from sideways. His dark brown hair was spilling over his shoulder in slight curls yet only the longest few tresses was past the shoulder. _A pretty short hair for an elf_, noted Gimli. Nearly all of the elves he saw had hair at least past shoulder-length, female's was even longer. There wasn't any braids in the hair as well, _not __usual again_He noted the pointy ear and nodded to himself. _At least that part is not__bizarre._

Gimli stood up and slowly walked toward the elf as silent as he can. He was wearing a simple robe that came until his ankles. Its color was between grey and green moreover looked big and loose on him. _Though it must be comfy, _thought the dwarf. He, little by little, he moved around the elf and saw the elf's face clearly. He knew that the elves had difficulties distinguishing mortals, likewise they could hardly tell apart two elves. So looking to the face of the elf didn't imply the dwarf anything. Like all the other elves, this one had a fair face and pale skin. Only hair in the face was eyebrows and eyelashes which were dark since the elf's hair was dark as well. Yet the dwarf felt like he did meet this elf but for the life of him, he couldn't place where or when.

The dwarf moved until he was directly in front of the elf and scowled. Now, he was sure he had met this elf somewhere. After trying for a moment, he still couldn't remember, he dismissed it as unimportant; he met so many elves here to count.

Suddenly, just before he turned back, the elf opened his eyes to look directly into the dwarf's. Startled to the unexpected movement, Gimli stared to the blue-gray orbs. At the moment, it suddenly hit the dwarf like a ton of rocks. These eyes looking at him, shining with laughter, while taking another cup of ale from his hand. Dread and embarrassment rose up to his throat when he immediately remembered who this elf is. Out of all elves, he found _this one_ to catch him while staring. As if he wasn't already embarrassed to him enough. _No wonder_ the dwarf thought, _he chose this secretive corner to sit._

Eyes lit up with recognition, Erandil gave a sincere smile to the dwarf. Thanks to the old dwarf, the father of the one standing in front of him, he had an enjoyable night yesterday.

As soon as the brunet elf took a step out of his room yesterday evening, after sleeping for hours he didn't bother counting, he remembered an important characteristic of the elves of Imladris. They loved to talk. And apparently he was the subject of the day. It didn't take a few seconds for him to be completely surrounded by curious elves and all through the rest of the day, he tried to get rid of them. With no luck. The only thing he accomplished was to add more people to the crowd around him. With such a rate that, by dinner he had the beginnings of a headache caused from the loud noises and other sensations – like smell – coming from his newly-high senses. After learning that the reason he didn't answer any of their questions was not because he was rude and trying to get away from them – not that it would work – but because he couldn't answer them; they decided to talk in his stead as well. Did he mention he never liked to be famous?

The brunet elf was about to excuse himself from the dinner when a dwarf came next to him and claimed, in a voice loud enough to silence everybody, that if he had ever lived as a dwarf, he would know how to drink ale, like one of them. A drinking game it was. After that moment, the night became enjoyable for the elf; the game was fun and afterwards he managed to reach his hobbit friends. Of course he won the game, guess the old dwarf didn't know about the nearly-endless drinking ability of the elves. Still Erandil believed he convinced the dwarf about his before lives as one of his kind.

Smile still on his face, Erandil returned back to the present where the son of the said dwarf was murmuring apologies with a flushed face and unsure voice. The elf sighed inwardly, now, how to shut this dwarf up and explain him that what his father did yesterday did not embarrassed him at all, on the contrary he had quite an enjoyment?

----------

_Hobbits have good phrases for situations like this_, thought Gandalf wryly, looking to the scene in front of him. For example 'while filling your stomach, don't empty your mind' might do the job, or maybe 'learn secret-keeping before attempting to keep secrets'. He could find more of these sayings but currently the wizard stuck to one of them. 'So much for secrecy'.

The subject of these thoughts smiled to them, sitting on the table in the center of the room, surrounded by books and parchments about Eregion history and Noldor family trees. He even had a book in his hands, one about royal families of Eregion. His smile was a sincere and good-hearted one, the Ishtar observed, as if he wasn't aware of the reason for all the documents around him.

"Hello Erandil," started Elrond, ever the calm one, "how are you feeling today?"

The brunet elf gave another smile, jumped down from the table and quickly wrote something to a parchment. Then gave it to Elrond and stood facing them with an eager expression for the answer.

"If you are feeling good enough," answered Elrond to the written question, "you can start using your magic."

The four of them watched as Erandil's smile widened and face brightened, shining with happiness. He bowed to Elrond as if to thank him, which the elf did only respond with a raised eyebrow. Then he closed his blue-gray eyes and took a deep breath. What they felt afterwards was something like a strong wind, passing though them and taking their breath with it. _Raw energy_, noted Gandalf, _spreading from the source_. It took a few seconds to catch their breath and when they looked to the source of this energy, the elf in front of them had changed. His skin was glowing with a soft and barely noticeable light as if there was a light so powerful was within him that the skin can't block it all, similar to a window curtain on a sunny day. His eyes were also shining with the same light, revealing their interesting color altogether.

Gandalf smiled, remembering the fond memories; this soft glow that all elven magicians seemed to carry with them. Now looking at Erandil, he had the urge to believe whatever the elf said and stop the research. The glow around him was powerful and controlled, indicating how strong a magician he really is. And looking to his eyes, Gandalf remembered the old hobbit's words from yesterday, _his eyes was like yours Gandalf, _he had said, _shining wisely and deeply._ He noticed that until now he hadn't totally understood what the hobbit had said. Those blue-gray orbs were filled with memories of different lives, so many of them. It was the eyes of someone who had experienced all emotions, had seen many sides of life and was still standing. Then the elf smiled and the Ishtar saw flicker of something there. Something that most people lost in the way of growing and maturing. Something, the old wizard believed, that will make the journey of the One Ring all more interesting. Mischief and childishness.

"_I missed this feeling!_" a voice shouted in the Ishtar's head and snapped him away from his thoughts rather violently. Startled, he looked around only to see other elves looking back to him with the same expression he believed he was wearing now, shock and slight panic. For a few moments, they looked at each other, their panic increasing with moments. What was that? Whose voice was it? What happened that, they are all hearing someone in their heads in the same time? What feeling? Who missed it? And who was giggling _now_? Was it in their heads _again_?

"_Did I surprise you?__" _said the same voice between giggles, in their heads again._"__Sorry, __it wasn't my intention._"

Glorfindel slowly turned around as dread was piling in his stomach, with increasing speed. The brunet elf was trying to look innocent yet it was a difficult task with his immense amusement shining in his eyes. When everybody in the room turned to him with raised eyebrows and dread written on their faces, he couldn't stop anymore. He grinned to them, his shoulders shaking a little with silent giggles. The blond elf lord, still wasn't sure if his thoughts were being read, tried so hard not to think about childish, magician elven princes and how he wanted to wipe that grin of that face.

More than a few moments later, the three elves and the Ishtar got rid of their surprises and panic to the unbodied voice – which was, in fact, bodied – and convinced by the elf that no, he does _not_ read minds or hear thoughts and no, _again_, what they heard were not his thoughts but were just what he wanted them to hear, kind of one-way telepathic talking.

It was before he was leaving the library that Erandil stopped suddenly and turned back to the search company.

_"I just remembered," _he started, _"in your __re__search, I believe you calculated my age wrong. That's why you can't find m__e__ in any of these books."_ The company looked up from their books and looked at him with a kind of apologetic expression. Erandil looked to the four of them and smiled, _"This look is not needed, I totally understand your reasons for this __re__search__ – I actually would have been more surprised if you didn't __do it__ – so__ let me help you a bit__"_ his smile turned into a grin, which alerted the company _"__I'm sure you'd remember that in an elven__ magician__ training, the student would be isolated from __life, family, friends; __everything__ but magic__."_ He looked to the faces and seeing expectant expressions, continued, _"__As a member of the royal family, from the moment I passed age __one hundred__, I ha__d__ to do my duties as a prince. In fact, I was already over th__e__ age when father became the lord. Yet I wasn't allowed to return to everyday life without mastering my magic. So it was decided that I wouldn't be recorded as a prince until I finish__ed__ my magician training. __When I finished my education, Eregion was in war and not long after, our lord was captured and died."_ He stopped for a moment, his grin crumbled. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, no sorrow could be seen in them. _"Thus, I would recommend you to look into books of training magicians of Eregion since I am not recorded in __family trees."_ He winked to them, turned around and walked away. After he left the library, they heard the voice say _"And good luck"_ in their heads.

Everyone stilled for a moment, digesting the information. Then Glorfindel entered the magicians section of the library and took the first book he saw, a book titled Eregion Magicians.

By the time Erestor stated "So, he wasn't a master magician when he awakened the power of the Three." he had already found what he was looking for. A name in the list of students. Erandil son of Celebrimbor.


	4. Chapter 3

It was a sunny day in Imladris. There were a few clouds in the sky but other than them, nothing. A shining sun, flying birds and a slight breeze, just enough to play with your hair and tickle your skin. There was the day left over from autumn, which has accidentally come out in the beginning of winter, as if it had forgot that the season had changed.

One should always put these kinds of days into good use, of course without forgetting to thank a few times to the Mother Nature for allowing them one more day to enjoy the beautiful weather. For instance, one can walk in one of the numerous gardens of Imladris or gorgeous forests that surround it. Meeting with friends is a really good way to spend one's time as well, especially hobbits like to play games in these beautiful weathers or one could always find some elf to talk to in the gardens. Even dwarfs and men couldn't stay indoors in such weathers so if one had some luck, meeting with them was an option as well. If meeting with someone didn't sounded like a good idea, one could always –

"Erandil," came Gandalf's strong voice and snapped the elf's mind, albeit forcefully, from the daydreams. "Are you here?"

He had to take his mind off these plans because now he was _not_there, under the sun, feeling its hot rays hitting his face, but rather, in Master Elrond's study along with three elves and an Ishtar looking at him through serious expressions.

"_Sure, Gandalf, I'm here._"

"Sorry to make you wait, Erandil," said Elrond, slowly, "but we had to discuss these subjects. Now as for the reason I called you, we need to talk about the people to go with the journey with you."

The mind of the brunet elf, which had – again – begun to from plans to spend his time outside, retuned full force to the present. Now _that_ was an interesting topic. Who would you choose to go to a dangerous journey that would affect the world itself? Hard question. Hmmm...let him think for a minute...

----------

Legolas sat in one of the branches of a great oak tree, leaning to its hard trunk, deep in thought. For a moment, he opened his eyes to take in the view.

The branch, he was sitting, was quite far above the ground so he could see top of many of the trees, in variety of colours of autumn. They seemed like colourful clouds, so soft and puffy. Using a little imagination, he could have the urge to jump to them.

He closed his eyes again. He wasn't sure about his emotions about this place anymore. When he had originally entered this forest, in his first visit to Imladris; different, was the first thing that came to his mind, or maybe weird. He had gotten uncomfortable of the trees, many different kinds, and especially their songs. They were so different from the ones in Mirkwood. They were singing about legends, history, people and many other things but they weren't mourning like their relatives in Mirkwood. It was the first time in many years, adding up to more than centuries, that he had heard happy voices of trees. Now, in his second visit, after four days of spending all his time other than eating and sleeping here, he wasn't sure he was willing to take his journey to Mirkwood tomorrow.

He sighed slowly. Of course that didn't change –

"_Hello!_"

the fact that he'll be returning tommo – wha?

Suddenly alert, Legolas opened his eyes quickly and his hand went to his waist instinctively, where a small blade was rested.

Wait...was that is his head?

"_I'm below, on the ground_" yes, the voice was in his head. He took his hand back from his knife; there was no way he could fight with an invisible enemy with it. What was he thinking when he left his room without his weapons anyway? "_I just want to meet you,_" Legolas looked below, only to see more branches. He was pretty high, there was no way he could be seen from the ground, "_may I join you there?_"

How can he answer to that question? Shout to ground as if he believed what the other said was true? _No way_, the blond elf thought, _invisible or __not_he refused to be caught unguarded. He silently unsheathed his knife, ready to attack the first person he saw.

Silence. It was all Legolas could hear. Only silence, such that even the trees had stopped their songs to see what will happen.

Rustle of leaves.

Legolas turned to the direction – left, below – as fast as his neck allowed him, readied his knife and –

"_I hoped I could earn another reaction from you_" the voice said, in his head, "_but I would do the same if I were in your situation, I guess_" and chuckled.

Caught off guard from the talking, Legolas looked to the person he assumed was the owner of the voice. It was an elf. _That was expected from his silence in climbing the __tree_ He remembered this elf from his first visit; he had always been surrounded by many elves wherever he went, because...he had fainted at the end of the Council of Elrond. Why? For the reason that he took a transformation from a hobbit to an elf. From _the_ hobbit that told his story of brining the Ring to Imladris...the exact one that took the job of carrying it to Mount Doom.

The blond elf felt the knife slipping from his numb fingers and with a conscious effort, put it back to its sheath in his waist. Whilst, the other elf was climbing the last few branches to be at the same level with him. As the elf sat on a branch, facing him, and shifted a little to get more comfortable, the blond elf had to use his hand to close his mouth to stop from shouting "You're the ringbearer!"

"_Fir__stly, let me introduce myself,_" he said happily, as if the introduction was needed, "_I am Erandil_"

"Legolas," said the elf after making sure that his voice was normal and he wouldn't shout nonsense to the ringbearer, "from Mirkwood."

Erandil smiled while trying to figure out the elf in front of him. When the blond elf had first seen him, his expression was a shocked one. Yet, he quickly erased that expression and was now looking to him with a neutral, or it could be considered as blank too, expression. Additionally, from his response, it could be understood that he wasn't one talkative fellow.

Now, he needed a plan to get to know this guy. It looked like 'the empty talk', as he called those introductory chatting about weather or latest news, won't work. Ok, pass that part. Next: interests. Erandil sighed; all he could find was that he most probably was interested in trees. _At least, it is a beginning._

"_I guess, you like trees._" Not the best start one can find, but not the worst either.

"Yes."

The brunet elf hardly surpassed an audible groan. If the elf would have asked a question by his accord, it would make brunet's life far much easier.

If he wanted to be that way, he could make one-word sentences as well. "_Why?_"

He noticed another thing suddenly. The blond elf didn't question his telepathic way of talking at all.

Legolas paused for a moment to think. "Because" would be a rude reply, right? "I'm a wood elf" wouldn't be any different. The truth was that he wasn't sure. He just felt relaxed and comfortable with them. On a second thought, maybe "I'm a wood elf" was a good response after all.

----------

The sun was setting by the time Legolas got relaxed talking with Erandil and began to give more truthful and longer responses.

"_I had heard something__ is__ special about you_" started Erandil, after both took deep breaths after the last topic of conversation. He looked directly to the eyes of the blond elf, "_do you__ really__ able to feel darkness?_"

He saw Legolas' whole body tense and he quickly averted his eyes, found something interesting to look at some branch below. Then he shifted uncomfortably. Although he couldn't voice it, his whole body language was shouting the answer. Erandil's curiosity roused all more. _Now let's see if he can voice it_, he thought slyly.

"Yeah." The brunet elf blinked. He _really_ wasn't expecting an answer. "I can feel dark presences from long distances." He congratulated the elf silently for his courage to tell this, it must have been a secret of him. _And __his family_, he added later on. Erandil could imagine Mirkwood's royal family not wanting to spread this news about one of their princes. Of course, he had just ignored the fact that, the said answer wasn't more than a whisper.

"_Can you feel it right now?_" the elf couldn't stop asking. What could he do if he was one curious elf?

The blond elf paused a while before answering "Nope." Then continued, "I don't think any darkness can survive here, in Imladris."

"_You think so?_" came the response. Legolas looked up to see the brunet elf with a strange smile. At that moment, he quickly decided that he preferred his sincere and good-hearted smile over this one. "_Actually, the most powerful source of darkness and evil is right here, in Imladris._"

In a heartbeat, the blond elf understood what the other was referring to and in the next heartbeat; he saw that Erandil was pulling some kind of chain under his robe. He didn't need to see to know what was attached to that chain. But look, he did.

The moment he saw the golden ring, swinging at the end of a chain, held by the brunet elf; his breathing ceased. The all-too-familiar coldness and numbness surrounded him, but more stronger, scarier and deathly. He could hear his heartbeats so clearly, like a drum playing next to his ear. Also his attempts at breathing, he could hear; there was no other voice. Then, suddenly, he heard a whisper. He couldn't understand the words but it was there and he knew where it was coming from. Yet, he couldn't take his eyes from it.

_It is reachable_, a thought suddenly appeared in his mind, _it is not for away. _He scowled, without taking his eyes from _it_, where did this thought came from? He didn't care whether he can reach it or not, because his only wish right now was to get as far away from it as possible. In the fastest way.

Black spots began to appear before his eyes, he felt dizziness approaching him, slowly but surely. He wanted to hold more tightly to the branch he was sitting but he couldn't feel his fingers. Legolas, with his sheer willpower, took his eyes from the Ring and looked to its holder, before dizziness would hit him full force. The way he could talk to him telepathically, the way he could find him without seeing him; there, surely, must have been a way that he could feel his suffering right now. _Just get it away from me_, he wanted to shout, _hide it wherever you hid before_. Damn it! He couldn't breath!

And black spots covered his whole vision.

He felt himself slipping from the branch he was sitting on, his whole body was numb.

Fortunately, he felt warmness, oh-so-great warmness that you didn't understand its importance unless you lost it, spreading slowly to his body, replacing the coldness and numbness; while he was –surprisingly – still on the branch. With it, the dizziness began to dissolve as well. They were going away as fast as they had come and in a few moments he was able to open his eyes to the beautiful autumn evening.

Unexpectedly, Erandil was sitting in front of him, on the same branch. When he saw that the blond elf had opened his eyes, he smiled to him. Not that strange one but one of his sincere and warm smiles, accompanied by a light in his eyes. A light, that the blond elf remembered seeing in his parents' eyes, while he was an elfling. _He is proud_, Legolas thought, _but of what?_

"_Feeling better?_"

The elf just nodded, still preferring to take deep breaths instead of using them in talking.

He looked to the brunet elf in front of him. The elf had taken the Ring away just in the right moment, or he was going to lose his consciousness. The Ring was hidden in wherever it was before and he couldn't feel it anymore. Not even a tiny bit. Everything had returned back to being calm and normal; trees' songs could be heard again, or the breeze on his skin could be felt.

It was in that moment that Legolas understood Erandil's power. His power that enables him to cover the presence of the Ring – even _it_ – without sweat. _It __i__s kind of scary_, a part of his mind was telling him however he didn't mind it. The idea that, the smiling elf in front of him to hurt him or be dangerous in any way was so wrong, so unbefitting.

"_Sorry about that bad experience._" he said, apologetic.

"I just don't want to be such close to_ it_, again."

He nodded and said "_You were strong._" The blond elf blinked. Strong? He was about to faint, just by looking to the Ring. "_You didn't take it. I know you heard its whispers_" Legolas' eyes widened. "_and__ you could be able to ignore them._" Could there be a chance that, the ringbearer was proud of _him_? No way. The thought was ridiculous.

"I don't think I'm as strong as you think I am." He replied, "Also, resisting it is much easier in such a place like Imladris."

The brunet elf raised an eyebrow and smirked, "_Believe me, people who would be able to resist the attraction of the Ring, in Imladris; I can count them with my ten fingers."_

He paused, "So?" It felt like this conversation was going to somewhere.

"_So,_" his smirk grew even larger, "_I want you to come and join to me in the journey, up to where__ver__ you want to._"

It took a few moments for the blond elf to comprehend what the other had said.

"There is a war going on in my home right now, you know, right?"

"_I'm sure Mirkwood can find some other captain to its army,_" said the brunet elf with a soft voice, "_but I don't think I can find a better companion to go to such a dangerous journey with me._"

After being sure that there were no leftovers from his interaction with the Ring, Erandil began to climb down, as silent as he came. Just before he disappeared between branches, he looked up and said "_Think about it, ok? __A chance to be one of the Nine Walkers._"

Legolas took a deep breath and slowly breathed out. The sky had darkened by now and stars were beginning to appear. The trees around him continued their songs about legends, heroes and history. The blond elf, surrounded by them, tried to figure out a meeting point for his heart's desire and mind's reason.

Had he thought himself to be confused before? It was nothing compared to his situation now.

----------

Erandil smiled satisfactorily while walking down through the halls of House of Elrond. He believed his talk with the blond elf went pretty well. At first, the other elf was cold and reluctant to talk and scared him for some time that the guy was _really_ emotionless and remote. Thankfully, with time he got friendlier and easier to talk to. Actually, to be truthful, after he became relaxed and showed his real self, the brunet elf thought that the conversation was enjoyable.

Also, he believed his offer would be considered. He didn't know – or actually had any idea – whether Legolas would accept or not. _No problem_, he thought, he was never one to get uncomfortable from uncertainties. He could never be a person that always does things after being sure of its result. If you know the result, where is the fun of waiting it? It wasn't like he was lacking patience.

It began to get colder, he noticed, while passing in front of a garden; it looked like winter had gotten rid of the leftover autumn day and was back in place. It was ok for him, all he had to do was to wear more clothes; yet it wasn't the case for the trees, he thought, looking to the garden. Leaves have begun to fall, leaving the trees without any cover. He watched as a leave flew with the wind, slid slightly, and then came to an end at the top of a head.

Erandil giggled as the owner of the head made an annoyed noise and took the leave.

"_You know, Gimli,_" he couldn't help but said, "_if you're so annoyed of leaves, you should have sit under a pine tree._"

With a surprise, the dwarf looked behind him and grinned, gotten used to the teasing of the elf over the last month. Actually, it took some time for the dwarf to got rid of his embarrassment of their first meeting but the elf was understanding towards him. Of course he could easily say that the elf didn't waste any of his chances to tease him about that day and his reaction. Gimli shook his head; they had chosen a mischievous one as the ringbearer.

"Hello to you too, Erandil." said the dwarf, with a sarcastic tone, then added "I didn't see you around today. What were you doing in a nice day such as this?"

"D_on't even ask,_" the elf started while he was walking to the bench the other was sitting_, "all through the morning, I was in a meeting with Master Elrond, thankfully in the afternoon I was able to go outside. I talked to Legolas, in the forest_" after seeing the confused looked of the dwarf, he added, "_Legolas from Mirkwood._"

After hearing, the dwarf put on a disgusted face and made a dismissing motion with his hand.

"_Oh, sorry,_" the elf said with a teasing drawl, "_I forgot you didn't like the folk of Mirkwood,_" he started giggling, "_those evil, treacherous elves._"

"I just don't like them," the dwarf said with an annoyed voice, "that's all." Gotten used to his teasing, yeah, but up to a point.

"_You or your father?_" the elf said with a raised eyebrow, "_luckily for me, he wasn't planning ways of getting rid of dwarves of the world when I met him._" He started laughing. Seeing the expression of the dwarf, his laughs increased, "_He looked like a pretty normal and non-evil elf._"

Gimli just narrowed his eyes and prefer not to say anything. Sometimes he wondered how he could stand to the jokes of this elf. Getting rid of dwarves of the world. Hah! As if an elf could do it! They couldn't do it even if they _all_ tried to! He looked, again, to the laughing elf and –

He was nearly forgetting what he wanted to say to him! All because of the other's jokes.

"Now, after this interesting topic" another giggle of the elf echoed in his head, "I had actually come to this garden to find you and tell you something." The elf looked at him, amusement still shining clearly in his eyes. "About the journey of the Ring."

The dwarf smiled satisfactorily as the amusement flew out of the window and the elf looked to him, interested. "I want to represent the dwarves in the journey."

----------

Elrond and Gandalf exchanged confused glances. Then directed them to the blond elf standing in front of them.

"Please sit down, Legolas." said Elrond, making a hand gesture towards the chairs, "May I ask," he said after the elf had sat down, "what brought you here?"

It was indeed surprising for the two occupants in the room. The prince of Mirkwood wasn't known for his friendliness and talkativeness. He preferred to talk only when needed, it was sufficient to say that he was a man of action. So, no one could blame the elf and the Ishtar because they were surprised to see the blond elf entering the room when Elrond called "come in".

"Today, Erandil made an interesting offer to me and I thought, maybe, you'd know his reasons for it."

Gandalf raised one of his eyebrows as Elrond scowled. The elf could still remember their argument clearly.

"We don't know about his offer, so I guess, you should talk to him about it." said Gandalf, slowly.

"He offered me to represent the elves in the journey."

The other two occupants in the room stopped for a moment. None of them was expecting something like that.

"I guess if you don't know, I should just go." Legolas stood up, seeing the silence in the room, "Thank you for your time." He made a small movement with his head and moved towards the door.

Elrond thought quickly. His scowl was still in place, he could remember Erandil's words as clear as he heard them; _experience in what, exactly, do we require?_ he had said, in the morning, _If anything, Gandalf and I have more than enough for everybody. It's not like I say we take an elfling with us._

_He was__ correct, to some extent_, a part of his mind told him. Yes, none of the elves he could suggest could have any experience of dealing with the dangers of the Ring. No one could have such a thing, since this journey was the first in the history. _Well, I don't have any experience carrying an evil object on my person_, he had added, in their argument, _what can you do about it?_ When he had said these in his head, Elrond had gotten angry, more than he remembered himself to be in centuries, however now that he looked at things from the brunet elf's perspective, they didn't sound as wrong as it were.

They had argued over the fact that the elven representative should be an experienced elf. While Elrond argued for an experience one, Erandil didn't want to have someone with all kinds of knowledge about world with him on the journey. Except Gandalf, that was.

The Master of Imladris had argued that someone that didn't know the dangers the Ring could put them in would create more danger for them. Everybody should have had some encounters with orcs, goblins, wolves and even trolls; knew of the darkness and its cruelty. Especially the elf in the group had to have some warriors skills, knew how to use his superior senses and must had knowledge of life since he would be one of the oldest in the group.

Looking to the retreating back of the blond elf, he noticed that Erandil had found someone that suited his description and refuted all of Elrond's arguments. Experience in fighting creatures of darkness, surely the blond elf had more than enough on this issue. His home was in a war with these creatures, he surely knew what they were capable of doing. Warrior skills and usage of superior senses, Legolas would pass that test with flying colours. About the last issue, Elrond was wiling to trust the ringbearer on it.

"Now that you say it," Gandalf beat the black-haired elf stop the blond elf, just before he was leaving the room. "we _may_ actually know something about his reasons." The Ishtar looked to the elf to confirm that their thoughts were the same.

Legolas turned back and looked to the other two in the room, blankly. If they knew, why didn't they say it before?

Gandalf showed to the same chair he had sat, before starting to speak, "When we talked about this subject, in the morning," he glanced to Elrond and smiled to see that there was no sign of displeasure about the mention of the issue. The brunet elf was forgiven. "Erandil gave us, a specific description of the elf he wanted to go to the journey with." He paused for a moment to see the blond elf looking interestedly to him. So, he continued. "He wanted a young elf to go with him, less than a thousand years old; because he believed that this journey will start the new age. He had said _there wo__n't come any help__to the Middle Earth__ from an elf while he is thinking of leaving it._"

Master Elrond continued, "He wanted the elf, which will come with him, to love Middle Earth. Its earth, sky, rocks, trees, animals; just anything about it. So he wanted a young elf, that didn't know the sea-longing yet."

"Definitely," the old wizard added, "he wanted the elf's reason to come be his love for this world and desire to help it, not because he felt he had to, from responsibility."

"_I want that elf to listen to the songs of trees, soil and rocks, instead of trying to hear the sound of the sea_, was his exact words," said Elrond, "if I remember correctly," he added then, looking to Gandalf. "And I believe, he had just found one to match his description quite well." The elf turned to the blond one and smiled to him.

After a moment which they had allowed the other elf to think, the Ishtar asked, "So, what is your response?"

A nice warmness had spread to Legolas' body. So, the ringbearer had chosen him not because of his strange interaction with darkness. It was the first time in his life that his love of nature had been considered as a good and valuable thing. He could still tell that his warrior skills and that darkness thing were favourable factors, but it was not enough that he didn't have the urge to go and thank the brunet elf for seeing him in such a different angle, the first person in his life.

The two others waited patiently for the answer of the elf. Then they saw his smile and the light in his blue eyes. It was the first time they had saw this elf smile. They smiled to him as well; a worded response was not needed anymore.


End file.
